Here I am, waiting for a ship; the steamer was too horrid: and I look so
much to the good to be gained by the voyage that I did not like to throw
away the chance of two months at sea at this favourable time of year, and
under favourable circumstances; so I made up my mind to see you all a
month later. The sea just off the Cape is very, very cold; less so now
than in spring, I dare say. The weather to-day is just like _very_ warm
April at home—showery, sunshiny, and fragrant; most lovely. It is so odd
to see an autumn without dead leaves: only the oaks lose theirs, the old
ones drop without turning brown, and the trees bud again at once. The
rest put on a darker green dress for winter, and now the flowers will
begin. I have got a picture for you of my ‘cart and four’, with sedate
Choslullah and dear little Mohammed. The former wants to go with me,
‘anywhere’, as he placidly said, ‘to be the missis’ servant’. What a
sensation his thatchlike hat and handsome orange-tawny face would make at
Esher! Such a stalwart henchman would be very creditable. I shall
grieve to think I shall never see my Malay friends again; they are the
only people here who are really interesting. I think they must be like
the Turks in manner, as they have all the eastern gentlemanly
‘Gelassenheit’ (ease) and politeness, and no eastern ‘Geschmeidigkeit’
(obsequiousness), and no idea of Baksheesh; withal frugal, industrious,
and money-making, to an astonishing degree. The priest is a bit of a
proselytiser, and amused me much with an account of how he had converted
English girls from their evil courses and made them good _Mussulwomen_.
I never heard a _naïf_ and sincere account of conversions _from_
Christianity before, and I must own it was much milder than the Exeter
Hall style.
I have heard a great many expressions of sorrow for the Queen from the
Malays, and always with the ‘hope the people will take much care of her,
now she is alone’. Of course Prince Albert was only the Queen’s husband
to them, and all their feeling is about her. It is very difficult to see
anything of them, for they want nothing of you, and expect nothing but
dislike and contempt. It would take a long time to make many friends, as
they are naturally distrustful. I found that eating or drinking
anything, if they offer it, made most way, as they know they are accused
of poisoning all Christians indiscriminately. Of course, therefore, they
are shy of offering things. I drank tea in the Mosque at the end of
Ramadan, and was surrounded by delighted faces as I sipped. The little
boy who waits in this house here had followed us, and was horrified: he
is still waiting to see the poison work.
No one can conceive what has become of all the ships that usually touch
here about this time. I was promised my choice of Green’s and Smith’s,
and now only the heavy old _Camperdown_ is expected with rice from
Moulmein. A lady now here, who has been Heaven only knows _where not_,
praises Alexandria above all other places, after Suez. Her lungs are
bad, and she swears by Suez, which she says is the dreariest and
healthiest (for lungs) place in the world. You can’t think how soon one
learns to ‘annihilate space’, if not time, in one’s thoughts, by daily
reading advertisements for every port in India, America, Australia, &c.,
&c., and conversing with people who have just come from the ‘ends of the
earth’. Meanwhile, I fear I shall have to fly from next winter again,
and certainly will go with J— to Egypt, which seems to me like next door.
I have run on, and not thanked you for your letter and M. Mignet’s
beautiful _éloge_ of Mr. Hallam, which pleased me greatly. I wish
Englishmen could learn to speak with the same good taste and _mésure_.
Mr. Wodehouse, who has been very civil to me, kindly tried to get me a
passage home in a French frigate lying here, but in vain. I am now sorry
I let the Jack tars here persuade me not to go in the little barque; but
they talked so much of the heat and damp of such tiny cabins in an iron
vessel, that I gave her up, though I liked the idea of a good tossing in
such a tiny cockboat. I will leave a letter for the May mail, unless I
sail within a week of to-morrow, or go by the _Jason_, which would be
home far sooner than the mail. I only hope you and A— won’t be uneasy;
the worst that can happen is delay, and the long voyage will be all gain
to health, which would not be the case in a steamer.
All I hear of R— makes me wild to see her again. The little darkies are
the only pleasing children here, and a fat black toddling thing is
‘allerliebst’. I know a boy of four, literally jet black, whom I long to
steal as he follows his mother up to the mountain to wash. Little Malays
are lovely, but _too_ well-behaved and quiet. I tried to get a real
‘_tottie_’, or ‘Hotentotje’, but the people were too drunk to remember
where they had left their child. _C’est assez dire_, that I should have
had no scruple in buying it for a bottle of ‘smoke’ (the spirit made from
grape husks). They are clever and affectionate when they have a chance,
poor things,—and so strange to look at.
By the bye, a Bonn man, Dr. Bleek, called here with ‘Grüsse’ from our old
friends, Professor Mendelssohn and his wife. He is devoting himself to
Hottentot and aboriginal literature!—and has actually mastered the Caffre
_click_, which I vainly practised under Kleenboy’s tuition. He wanted to
teach me to say ‘Tkorkha’, which means ‘you lie’, or ‘you have missed’
(in shooting or throwing a stone, &c.)—a curious combination of meanings.
He taught me to throw stones or a stick at him, which he always avoided,
however close they fell, and cried ‘Tkorkha!’ The Caffres ask for a
present, ‘Tkzeelah Tabak’, ‘a gift for tobacco’.
The Farnese Hercules is a living _truth_. I saw him in the street two
days ago, and he was a Caffre coolie. The proportions of the head and
throat were more wonderful in flesh, or muscle rather, than in marble. I
know a Caffre girl of thirteen, who is a noble model of strength and
beauty; such an arm—larger than any white woman’s—with such a dimple in
her elbow, and a wrist and hand which no glove is small enough to fit—and
a noble countenance too. She is ‘apprenticed’, a name for temporary
slavery, and is highly spoken of as a servant, as the Caffres always are.
They are a majestic race, but with just the stupid conceit of a certain
sort of Englishmen; the women and girls seem charming.
_Easter Sunday_.—The weather continues beautifully clear and bright, like
the finest European spring. It seems so strange for the floral season to
be the winter. But as the wind blows the air is quite cold to-day;
nevertheless, I feel much better the last two days. The brewing of the
rain made the air very oppressive and heavy for three weeks, but now it
is as light as possible.
I must say good-bye, as the mail closes to-morrow morning. Easter in
autumn is preposterous, only the autumn looks like spring. The
consumptive young girl whom I packed off to the Cape, and her sister, are
about to be married—of course. Annie has had a touch of Algoa Bay fever,
a mild kind of ague, but no sign of chest disease, or even delicacy. My
‘hurrying her off’, which some people thought so cruel, has saved her.
Whoever comes _soon enough_ recovers, but for people far gone it is too
bracing.